A Thousand Ships SAM

Katy Dröge-Macdonald and Juliane Honisch

The Iliad is full of heroes. And of dark prophesies. And of passion and guilt. There is no doubt that the face who launched the thousand ships is Helen's. But it should be Paris's. Or the faces of all those Greek petty kings who thanked their strife-loving deities for a cause to invade and flatten Troy. For Troy was the state that had all the really good business connections, that made the most money, that held the most power, that had the better life-style. And when it turned out that it could not be taken in a "Blitzkrieg" action, there suddenly were male egos at stake. Heroes' egos. Petty rulers' egos. Jealous men's egos.

The killing went on for a long time. And nobody ever asked Helen what she thought about all this.

A Thousand Ships

Lyrics: © Juliane Honisch, March 2001 /  Music: © Kerstin Dröge, March 2001
Used by permission - All Rights Reserved

From the mirror looking back at me
is the face that launched a thousand ships
and the smile that in the glass I see
trembles nervously upon those lips.
And unlike my mirror image I
can hear sounds of dusky darkness fall.
Perhaps tonight will be the night I die
fenced in by those mighty Trojan walls.

Choices were for others, not for me.
I was never asked my wish or will.
So an old man's wife I came to be
Golden toy to him, but faithful still,
till an honoured guest did touch my soul
taught me smiles that duly reached my eyes.
But my sweet smiles were not all he stole
For his love was reckless and not wise.

And again of me no one did ask
Whether I would want to start a war,
whether I'd fulfil my fate-set task,
whether I did truly wish for more.
Now the master of my fate is young.
He has brought me to the walls of Troy.
When the deeds of war are fin'lly sung
Who will call him selfish, lovesick boy?

Battle drums I hear within my mind
Fire arrows pierce me to the core.
Everyone is - like Cassandra - blind,
hatred lives on both sides of the door.
And the image in my mirror cries
Red-hot tears run down to wrinkling lips.
I've grown old while everybody dies
For the face that launched a thousand ships.